Caesar's Worst Interveiws
by Clover80
Summary: We all know how some of the best interviews have gone during build up to the Hunger Games, but what about the worst? Not everyone is able to maintain their dignity when asked how they feel about the games that will probably be their death. Read to find out how those few minutes on Caesar's stage went horribly wrong for some unfortunate tributes.
1. Mascara, Glitter, and Blood

Disclaimer: I do not own the Hunger Games

She was just a little girl, twelve years old and skinny as a rail. Her stylist hadn't cared though or maybe he was trying to make the poor girl look as ridiculous s as possible. He had obviously designed this outfit for an older tribute and decided not to make any alterations to it despite the fact that the girl wearing it was only twelve instead of seventeen. The dress was long and silver and should have been skin tight with coils of silver wire stitched into decorative patterns all over it including two on the chest where the girl's breasts would have been if she had any. But the girl wearing it was not yet developed enough to fill out the dress and it hung down ridiculously in the front. Couldn't they have found something more age appropriate for the kid? The child's dark hair had been coiled up in the same way as the wires on the dress and was sprayed with silver glitter. Though the prep team had slathered her face with makeup nothing could hide the fact that she had been crying, possibly for days and that her eyes were red and raw and her nose was swollen. She was crying now and black streaks were running down her face from her eyes and doing nothing to help her image. This poor girl was the definition of a bloodbath tribute. I would try and make this as short and painless as possible.

"Please welcome, from District 3, Elektra Barker!" I said trying to welcome her with my usual flourish and act as if her crying was nothing out of the ordinary or anything she should be ashamed of. It wasn't really out of the ordinary, but most tributes at least tried to hold it in and look strong for the cameras; not this girl.

The poor child wobbled onto the stage, obviously uncomfortable and not used to walking in high heels. Disaster struck before she even reached the chair; one minute she was walking and the next she was sprawled out on the floor after tripping over the too long hemline of her dress. The audience roared with laughter and I helped the sobbing girl to her feet. "Well, that was quite an entrance Elektra!" I said, trying to bring a smile to her face. She didn't think it was funny though and just sobbed even harder. These interviews were the worst, the ones where the tributes cried and nothing I could do would make them smile. This poor girl, she never even had a chance with that dress made for a young woman and not a little girl, those shoes she couldn't walk in. The mascara running down her face created an interesting effect though as it ran down in black trails and mixed with the silver glitter the stylists had painted on her cheeks which along with her black and red rimmed eyes made her look menacing but beautiful. Which was quite a feat since the girl was anything but threatening and not beautiful to begin with. Pure hatred and despair radiated from her soul through her dark, almost black eyes and the black and silver streaks only added to the menacing effect. Where the tearful black streams of makeup reached her painted red lips black rivulets settled in every crevice and the corners of her mouth.

After she settled down in her chair I tried to pat her back reassuringly but she flinched away from me. I started with my most basic question "How do you like life here in the Capitol?" No answer, she just turned her face towards the audience who drew in a collective gasp. Under the spotlights the black and silver mixed with the red of her lips and eyes made her look grotesquely evil; like a demon sitting on my stage instead of a terrified tribute. "Elektra, do you have a plan for the games? She turned and looked at me and nodded. Slowly she stood up and reached down the front of her oversized dress. "What in the world is she doing?" I wondered. I didn't have to wonder for long as she pulled out a large knife that she had smuggled onto the stage in her clothing and with a guttural, animal scream she plunged the knife through her heart killing herself instantly.

The next few minutes were chaos; everyone was screaming, the tributes were screaming, the audience was screaming I was screaming all hell had broken loose. I remember thinking "This must be what it's like at the cornucopia," as I stood watching everyone around me panic. I looked up into the audience and saw Beetee and Wiress, who had surely been her mentors holding each other up, each with a look of shock and horror on their faces. I turned my eyes to the dead girl lying there on the stage before the peace keepers carried her off and was surprised to find that in death she looked lovely, peaceful, a silver sparkling black and red death mask on her face, her blood soaking into the glittering silver fabric of her dress. It was beautiful and it was grotesque, but I couldn't look away.


	2. There's Always One in a Crowd

Disclaimer: I do not own the Hunger Games

The kid sitting in front of me was a typical Career, big, mean, and bloodthirsty. He personified the stereotypes of District 2 tributes in a way that I hadn't seen for a few years unfortunately including the dimwitted, arrogant thug persona. He came onto the stage to a raucously cheering audience pumping his massive fists into the air. His lack of intelligence was confirmed when he strode to the front of the stage and beat his chest a 'la _Tarzan_, a character from an old story who was raised by apes. The audience was on its feet, they couldn't get enough so of course he had to do it three more times before I could get him to sit down for the interview. He was dressed in a tuxedo that his stylist had ripped the sleeves off of so that his muscular arms could be seen which was a pretty clever move . The kid was handsome with huge arms and making him look like he had literally busted out of his clothing was a brilliant way to play up to the women in the audience. The first three buttons of his shirt had also been ripped open showing just a hint of dark chest hair, not enough to be obscene (but hey, what's really obscene here?) but enough to make women everywhere swoon. This kid was going to be rolling in sponsor money. "Well Jax, welcome! How do you like it so far here in the Capitol?" I asked.

The boy grunted and said "It's ok, but there's a lot of freaks out there with stuff like purple skin and hair that's three feet tall. Food's good though."

Holy crap, did this idiot really just say that? Somehow I've got to make a joke out of that. "So you're saying you don't like my hair?" I asked gesturing at my hot pink wave that matched my lipstick. I looked at him and smiled, batting my eyes like a girl.

"I don't like pink," he said.

"Well, let's talk about you," I suggested trying to change the subject, "Do you have any secret strategies for winning the games?"

"Yeah, I'm gonna go in there and kill everyone else, that's my strategy," Jax answered with a look on his face that clearly said I had just asked him the stupidest question he had ever heard.

"Well that certainly is the idea!" I said trying to play along and turn this train wreck around. "Some great sponsor gifts wouldn't hurt as well right?" I asked laughing. "The audience sure seemed to love you when you came onstage; you even got a standing ovation! They're sure to be lining up to sponsor you!"

"I hope not," the kid said. "I'm gonna win this thing without sponsors, with my own two hands, I don't need any help! Just wait and see!" He then stood up and beat on his chest again. Thankfully the buzzer went off indicating that his time in the spotlight was at an end.

"I'm sure you will Jax," I said, "just look at those muscles everyone!" The kid was still beating on his chest and the audience was still cheering, but not as loudly as before. As soon as he was offstage I saw Brutus hit him in the back of the head hard enough to make him stumble and Enobaria twisted his arm behind his back and dragged him towards the elevators. That blockhead had just blown any chance he had at getting sponsors, and he would have gotten tons of them based on his looks alone, and his mentors were furious. I could just imagine Enobaria threatening to rip his throat out herself with her pointed gold teeth. What an idiot. It was no surprise when the kid died six days into the games begging for a bottle of water. The Career pack had split up and the two tributes from District 1 had made off with all of the bottled water during the night. When the others woke up and realized that they were left in a hot, steamy forest with no water tempers flared and in matter of minutes both tributes from District 4 and Jax's district partner were dead. Jax tried to survive by licking the dew off of leaves in the early mornings but he was no nature lover. He fell into the trap that many Careers fall into when they have no supplies; he had no idea how to survive on his own in the wild. He could fight, he could kill, but he couldn't find water. If he had been smart he would have tracked the animals in the arena to see where they got their water from. But he wasn't. He had also made any potential sponsors angry by mocking their sense of fashion and saying that he would make it without their help. Even his mentors felt no pity for him. Enobaria and Brutus simply sat in their booth and watched him die instead of trying to convince some rich capitol citizen to pay for a bottle of water that would have saved his life.

After his cannon sounded I interviewed Brutus and asked what he thought of the whole thing. "Kid was an idiot," he said. "You don't bite the hand that feeds you, isn't that how the saying goes? Idiots die in the games. Population control maybe, one less idiot in the world taking up space," he said with a shrug. I thought it was a horrible thing to say but deep inside I couldn't help but agree.


	3. Twin Tragedies

Disclaimer: I do not own the Hunger Games

Every reaping has once scene that stands out: the pregnant girlfriend begging her lover not to go, the shrieking mother grasping at her only child as the peacekeepers hold her back, the tribute who is leaving behind nine or ten brothers and sisters, there's always something to tug on the heartstrings of the Capitol audience. This year's big heartbreaker was the girl who left behind her identical twin in District 8. They had been standing in line with the other 13 year-olds dressed in matching blue dresses , holding hands and praying that neither of their names were called. They were perfect copies of one another same brown hair, same sprinkling of freckles across the nose, same nervous habit of biting their bottom lip. When Marcus Whittleby, District 8's flamboyant escort called out the name "Narina Davis" both little girls jumped and turned white. Then they looked at each other with huge, terrified eyes, kissed each other on the cheek, and then one slowly made her way to the stage. The commentators were immediately chattering away about how heartbreaking it must be to leave a twin behind and whether or not it was true that whatever one twin felt the other felt as well. It was true in the case of these two girls; they were both feeling fear and pain.

When little Narina arrived in the Capitol the reporters were all over her, Cecelia and old Woof had to literally wrap themselves around the girl to get her into the training center while peace keepers held back the crowd. People were fascinated with the kid, the footage of her and her sister embracing was being played over and over on the television and she would no doubt gain sponsors because of it. Sometimes the fact that the Capitol falls in love with a tribute is due to the tribute's personality. Sometimes it's because their stylist comes up with an amazing new concept for the tribute parade and interviews. Sometimes it's just pure luck like it was with Narina, she just happened to be a twin and for whatever reason the Capitol audience found the concept to be intriguing. They found it to be so wonderful in fact that at the tribute parade many of the audience members dressed themselves as twins, wearing the same clothing and hairstyle as whoever they brought with them. Sometimes the Capitol gets just a little ridiculous with their obsessions, but it's my job to play them up, not mock them no matter what I really think.

The night of the interviews little Narina took the stage to thunderous applause. She looked very sweet in an emerald green dress that brought out her eyes and sat biting her bottom lip the way she had at the reaping. I went through the usual questions about how she liked the Capitol and how she got an eight in training. Finally I asked about her sister and what they said to each other before Narina boarded the train to the Capitol. She got a faraway look in her eyes and didn't answer, obviously lost in her memories of her twin. "Narina," I said jokingly, "are you with us?"

"No, I'm Karina," she said absently and then clamped her hand over her mouth. She looked at me with terrified eyes that were begging me to help her out in some way. I looked up at the luxury box where President Snow was sitting, smiling the whole time at the audience as if I hadn't heard the poor girl next to me just make the biggest mistake of her life. Snow crossed his arms and glared down at me. He didn't want me to play it off, I couldn't help her, god sometimes I hate my job. I didn't want to throw this poor kid to the wolves. When I looked back at the girl she could tell that it was all over, that her secret was out.

"What? Did you say that you're Karina? Isn't that your sister's name? I thought you were Narina!" I said with a fake smile plastered across my face.

"I, well, I, we switched places!" she blurted. "Narina's too delicate, too sweet, the games would destroy her, even if she lived," the little girl whispered. "So I took her place. Nobody knew."

How was I going to save this kid? Maybe…"That was very brave Karina, sacrificing yourself for your sister, knowing that she wasn't tribute material and hoping that you might be the one to bring honor to your district." Karina just nodded wide eyed. I turned to the audience who looked stunned. "What do you think folks, isn't that one of the bravest things you've ever heard of? What could be better than making sure the best tribute made it into the games, the one most likely to bring home the crown?" People in the audience looked at each other and slowly to my relief began to applaud and then cheer. The buzzer sounded in my earpiece. I helped Karina to her feet and held up her arm triumphantly "_**Karina **_Davis everyone!" The audience continued to cheer wildly but when I looked offstage I saw Cecelia and Woof surrounded by four peace keepers waiting to take Karina back upstairs.

The next day Claudius Templesmith and I sat in our booth above the control room doing the commentary as the games began. I tried to talk about anything but Karina, so much attention had already made her a target; not just of the Careers but of the game makers as well. Claudius however seemed determined to chatter on and on about her. The tributes were standing on their platforms and the countdown was almost over 12, 11, 10 BOOM! An explosion rocked the arena and tributes scrambled to stay on their metal plates and not fall victim to the mines that surrounded them. When the smoke cleared and the buzzer sounded Claudius and I, as well as the rest of Panem were finally able to see what happened; but in my heart I already knew. The mines around Karina's plate had been detonated. She died before the games had even begun. The game makers would say that she stepped off of her plate but she didn't. The Capitol television audience would never know, the camera feed had been showing the burly boy from District 1 when the explosion happened. The district audiences however had been treated to a different view, the live feed to the districts showed the explosion in all of its gory horror. Claudius and I had a wall of monitors in front of us that showed all of the camera feed from the cornucopia so we also knew that Karina hadn't stepped off of her plate and blown herself sky high. The Capitol had disposed of her, effectively showing the districts what punishment awaited those who tried to deceive them. When the bloodbath was over and the deaths had been tallied Claudius and I received a memo from the newsroom, an interesting tidbit for the viewers. Karina's twin, the real Narina Davis had also tragically died today. There was a gas leak in her house and sadly it exploded minutes after the explosion in the arena.


	4. Pimples and Pointy Teeth

The kid didn't want to die; he didn't even try to hide it with a brave face. He was a lanky 16 year-old from District 6 with pimples and crooked teeth. Nothing special, not good looking, not particularly clever, just an unattractive teenager from a rundown district that was polluted and had a sky that was perpetually grey due to the smoke from the car and high speed train factories. It had never been a nice place to live, even before the dark days, before Panem that place was a hellhole. It used to be called Detroit, the Motor City. Transportation had always been the main industry of this cold, grey city of filth. It had a heyday once and churned out shiny automobiles at an impressive rate but then the economy turned, the factories closed, and the people moved away. The ones who stayed were poor and had no way to get out and no way to provide the money to keep their city clean and beautiful. Their once sparkling main train station that had once resembled a castle inside fell into complete disrepair with broken windows and crumbling brick. The factories sat empty and the houses rapidly became dilapidated. Crime was rampant and poverty made the city's residents jaded and hollow-eyed, hopeless. Drugs became a way to make money and an escape for those who were doomed to spend their lives in that disintegrating rat hole. It's no different now, only the factories won't close because the Capitol needs what they produce. The drugs are still there and are the dish _du jour_ for the district's Victors.

His name was Hamer and he came onto the stage with a terrified look in his eyes and his head down. I could tell by the way he refused to look at the audience that he was used to be ridiculed. He sat in the chair beside mine not meeting my eyes with his hands in his lap and his longish hair in his eyes. I went through the usual round of questions, "What did you think when you were reaped? Who's waiting for you back home? Do you have a family that came to say goodbye to you?" and so on. He said that he did have a family, he lived with his grandmother and his sister and that he was the bread winner for the family. He smiled then and said that maybe all the heavy lifting he did at work would make him strong enough to win. When I asked if he had a girlfriend he grinned and told me that he did in fact have one and that her name was Tessa and that she was the first real girlfriend he had ever had. "Did she come to say goodbye to you?" I asked.

"She did," he answered.

"So," I said grinning at the audience, "what did she say to you before you left?"

"She told me to come home because she loved me and she would be waiting. I told her I loved her too and that I would think of her pretty face when things got bad in the arena so that I would have the strength to survive and come home to her," he said, with a sad smile on his face while nervously running his hands through his hair. "I won't disappoint her."

The audience loved it and began to cheer loudly. When the buzzer rang and Hamer walked off of the stage I saw the two tributes from District 2 glaring at him from the hallway where they waited for their mentors to come and escort them back upstairs. They knew that this boy had just won some hearts and possibly a few wealthy sponsors and that if sponsors were sending to gifts to Hamer that they would not be sending gifts to them. Sponsor money can be the difference between life and death in the arena and the tributes from District 2 were brought up knowing how the game was played. Honestly the girl from 2, Enobaria, creeped me out a little, she was loud and mean with a feral look in her eyes. I wouldn't want to have to fight her because on top of being vicious she also scored a nine in training. But I liked Hamer; maybe I could talk some of my friends into sending some money his way during the games. No one else had really mad an impression on me; only Hamer with his sad smile and his first girlfriend. There was just something about him that tugged at your heart strings.

During the games I watched Hamer with bated breath while giving running commentary on TV with Claudius Templesmith. At night when I went home I flipped the games on again so that I could see how Hamer was faring. He did pretty well for a kid from 6 who had no formal training of any kind. He survived the bloodbath and got a pretty decent backpack with a sleeping bag, food, water, flashlight, and a plastic tarp. After scooping up the pack he darted in a little farther and grabbed a large knife that was lying in the grass dropped by a dead tribute. He formed an alliance with a boy from 7 and the two of them managed to more or less avoid the Careers. Hamer's ally died on the fifth night of the games after being by a large, poisonous, spider mutt. Hamer spent the next two days hiding inside of a hollow tree that he and the boy from 7 had found together.

When Hamer made it to the final eight his family and girlfriend were interviewed on television. His girlfriend was a solidly built girl with dark hair and a quiet voice. When asked what she thought about Hamer making it to the final eight she said "He promised me he would do his best to come home and I know he will. Hamer is honest and sweet; if he told me he was going to try hard I know he will. I know he'll do his best to come home to his family and to me."

Hamer made it to the top two and the games ended with a bloody fight between him and Enobaria. Hamer had the axe that his ally from 7 had been carrying as well as the knife that he had picked up at the cornucopia. After struggling for a few minutes he managed to disarm Enobaria but she tripped him. When he hit the ground she jumped on him and without saying a word she bent down and ripped his throat out with her teeth. I immediately ran to the bathroom and vomited; in all of my years as a commentator for The Hunger Games I had never seen anything so horrible.

During Enobaria's post game interview she revealed her cosmetically altered smile to the crowd who thought that it was wonderful. They had already forgotten the boy that she killed with those teeth. But I didn't forget and I wished that it was Hamer sitting here with me instead of this pointy-toothed freak. A good heart never gets you anywhere, at least not in the arena.


	5. Chapter 5 Panic on the Stage

I do not own The Hunger Games, which is unfortunate.

Panic, total and absolute panic is the only way I can describe the look on the girl's face. She was 14 and skinny, a petite little red head from District 5 and her name was Rowan. She had on a green sparkling dress that accentuated her hair and eyes beautifully. I had heard her whisper to her district partner that it was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen and that she couldn't believe she was wearing it, that it was a dress fit for a princess.

She was visibly shaking as she walked onstage, desperately trying to control the tremors in her hands and knees. I tried to calm her down and welcome her to the show but when I asked her how she was enjoying her week in the Capitol she was completely frozen as if she couldn't force her mouth to move and from words. Her hands were clenched tightly in her lap and she was slightly rocking back and forth in her chair. "That bad?" I joked. This only caused the poor girl to turn even whiter than she already was and break out in a cold sweat. "Do you have any family back home?" I asked. Rowan nodded and whispered "my sister Cassie."

"What about your parents? Surely they must be watching you tonight?"

"My parents are dead," she whispered. Great, I'd really screwed that up; I guess I should have realized when she only said the name of her sister.

"Do you have any strategies for the games?" I queried, changing the subject. The girl drew in a shuddering breath and looked up at me. "The games" she whispered, almost to herself, then louder, "the games, The Hunger Games, I'M GOING INTO THE HUNGER GAMES!" Then she stood, wringing her hands and yelling "I'm a tribute, a tribute in The Hunger Games! NO! Then she bolted off the stage and into the audience. A group of peace keepers intercepted her and tried to force her back to the stage but this girl, Rowan, wasn't having it. She took off her high heels and started striking out at the peace keepers with them. She put up such a fight that one peace keepers helmet was knocked off and Rowan took the opportunity to drive the high heel of her discarded shoe into the man's eye. A shot rang out and suddenly people were screaming and pushing each other, trampling others in their desperate attempt to get away. When the dust finally settled those audience members who were left in the room as well as the other tributes and their mentors saw the target of the gunshot. Rowan lay slumped on the floor in her glittering green dress with a small hole in her forehead and a puddle of dark red blood pooling on the floor behind her. The message was clear; there is no escape from The Hunger Games except in death.


End file.
